Friends (To Sora)
by sans nom
Summary: Sora decides that she's not going to take part in battles anymore, and in true Sora-fashion, beats herself up with her decision. A retelling of Sora's chapter in Last Evolution.


**A/N:** Needless to say, I did not appreciate hints of Sora's minimal participation in Last Evolution so I made this. I took many liberties with what the teasers and trailers gave us. Have yet to see the film. If I spoil anything, it is pure coincidence, I swear.

**Disclaimer:** Digimon Adventure does not belong to me. I'm not too good with identifying flowers, but I found a great entry on tumblr by sakurarebin. Go check it out.

* * *

**Friends (To Sora)**

Blossoms of every color imaginable dot the shelf that stretches across the entire length of the shop. Behind her is a smaller one crammed with even more flowers. The smell is indescribable. "Home" is, perhaps, the best word to describe it.

God, she misses home and belonging somewhere, with someone…

She shakes her head as if the simple action is enough to make her forget. Instead, fate decides to play a cruel joke. Her eyes are inexplicably drawn to a small bucket off to the side brimming with nemophila. Then, it happens. She feels it before she even realizes. The sharp pain takes over like a tidal wave to squeeze the air out of her lungs.

"Aren't they beautiful?" a cheerful voice chirps from behind her, oblivious to how she is doubled over in pain. "I got a fresh delivery from Watanabe-san. He says he will bring more soon."

"Y-yes Mayumi-san, they are," she barely manages to wheeze out, because indeed, they are stunning. Perfect. Absolutely devastating. She tears her gaze from the offending flowers, and settle, instead, on some carnations – pure and devoid of color.

"But inappropriate for the display I am planning," she reasons, no, asserts to the flower shop owner. She goes over her choice with discerning eyes, before stepping back. "Do you have any lilies, Mayumi-san? With bright colors?"

She is greeted later by the warm hues of red and orange petals. She adds some purple too because while her head insists on tradition, her heart is too stubborn.

"You will do wonderful, Sora-san. I just know it."

The old woman's smile somewhat dispels the unease in her. She shifts the blooms from one arm to the next as she settles her payment. "Thank you. I hope to make the school and you proud."

With a quick bow and a smile, Sora exits the shop and heads for her apartment. It is a short and rather dull walk (she's had enough excitement for one day). As she enters her room, calmness washes over her. She kneels and takes out her purchases, carefully assessing each stem, trimming the excess pieces as she goes. She lays them out on the table side-by-side before taking out her utsuwa of choice: a shallow, gray ceramic bowl.

In no time, she is lost in the art. Or so she hopes. Her doubt cripples her today, so much that she second-guesses the minutest of details. Every decision is criticized without mercy. Frustrated, she storms into her room.

Her phone comes to life just as she enters, with the sound of Piyomon's pre-recorded chirping filling the room. Her brain begs her to ignore it, but it is already too late.

Her hand moves on its own, while her eyes stare at the screen. The name of the sender flashes thrice, striking her chest with pinpoint accuracy for the second time that day, before it is completely obscured by darkness. And her tears.

* * *

Nemophila aka: Baby blue eyes.

Symbolizes cynicism, emotional distance and conflict, a hidden vulnerability, eventual healing.

Baby blue eyes, like an ice wall.

Like Yamato's.

* * *

It is two days later – only seven days to the exhibit. Her table remains bare save for the bowl. She is distraught and lost. Piyomon senses her despair, tries all that she can (bless her heart) to save her from herself. Her mother calls to remind her of the date, unaware that she already has it circled on her calendar in bright red ink.

Three times.

She tries a relaxing walk. A movie. Sneaking Piyomon out for okonomiyaki. Anything to calm the storm in her head. It doesn't help that Koushiro keeps messaging her about the skirmishes in Shibuya. Hikari too. Taichi, thankfully, is radio silent.

Then, out of the blue, Mimi calls. It is short, but in true Mimi fashion, sweet. Her junior's reassuring words are enough to pull her out of the darkness she has trapped herself in. Renewed, emboldened even, she marches back to Mayumi's flower shop the next day to confront the blue demon, and adds a rainbow's worth of others – gerbera, lupine, magnolia, poppies, and a stem of hydrangea that catches her eye at the last second.

Her table is soon littered by them, by the apparent randomness of her choice of palette. Instead of trying to rid her mind of the pain that soon resurfaces, she makes the decision to tap into it instead. She allows her aching heart to guide her fingers to which stem to pick up and where to place it. Three poppies go in the center at mid-height, flanked by gerberas on either side like a pair of suns. She hesitates for a second before clipping the orange one's stem to 2/3 the length of the yellow, and placing it beside the poppies. Next is the lupine, tall and stately, a lovely purple contrasting the warm colors. She also wants to add magnolias, but the blooms are too large, so she, instead, goes with its buds. A cluster of pale, pink hydrangea completes the foreground of the arrangement, while the nemophila completes the back.

"It's all over the place," she sighs to herself as she surveys her work. "Not surprising considering my state of mind."

Sora gathers the final piece of the puzzle – the glue that binds them all together. She arranges the leaves in the spaces between each flower, making sure that each one is at the precise angle that she wants. Then, she assesses the arrangement yet again, making more adjustments, one or two major ones and a dozen minute ones that only she can possibly notice.

* * *

'Are they really gone?'

The ellipses appear below her message, but it takes a while before the reply actually comes. It's a simple three-letter word that makes Sora's heart plummet to the ground.

'How are they?'

Another few minutes of hesitation pass before she gets her answer. It is also the answer that she fears most.

'Not very well. Maybe if you talk to them…'

_And say what? That she's sorry they have to sacrifice their partners so Chosen like her get to keep theirs for a few more days? Or that everything will turn out alright? And how can she even say that when she has the faintest idea of what just transpired?_

_And would they even see her this time? Especially after what she did to them? She had no place, no right…_

She looks up from her phone just in time to her mother approach her. The older Takenouchi excitedly tells her that a writer from an ikebana magazine is inquiring about her floral arrangement namely the choice of flowers that she used. Sora hurries after her, and tries to ignore the butterflies in her stomach as she presents her work.

"The hydrangea looks lovely. And red poppies are an interesting choice for its soe."

Sora's cheeks flush pink. The woman opposite her thanks her for her time and politely excuses herself. Almost immediately after she leaves, her phone vibrates.

'Please, Sora-san. My brother needs you.'

Sora stares at the empty box which should contain her reply, her apology. None comes. She's sure that despite the younger girl's patience fit for a Buddhist monk, she must be tired of her apologies at this point. The small cursor blinks a few more times before it disappears along with the rest of her conversation with Hikari.

Her chest hurts as she lies in bed that night, holding Piyomon close in case their timer prematurely runs out. It won't, of course, but she does it anyway.

* * *

It is the last day of the exhibit. To her relief, the members of their school, and even her mother enjoyed her floral display despite its nontraditional nature. She is gracious with her gratitude for her mother's support (she only wishes that this will be the final time that she worries about her mother's confidence in her skills).

"Excuse me, Takenouchi-san. I know that we are closing soon, but there is someone looking for you. He seems interested with your work."

"Oh?" Sora thanks the usher, and heads for her display, only to stop a few meters away at the sight of a very familiar figure.

He has his back to her as he faces her ikebana display, but there's no doubt in her mind that it's him. She suddenly gets the strong urge to run for the door, but it's too late. Her body betrays her. Her mouth opens as his name falls from her lips.

He turns slowly to face her. His clear blue eyes allow her a glimpse into his head – surprise, trepidation, a burst of anger, then, longing. She marvels at how transparent he is with his emotions considering this is Ishida Yamato.

"Sora." He shifts his weight from one foot to the other. The tension slowly mounts as the silence stretches across the two of them. His gaze darts to her one more time, and Sora notes that the ice that she once knew has returned.

"W-what are you doing here?"

"The exhibit. I would have gone sooner, but you never told us when or where it was. I had to find out from Mimi of all people."

"I'm sorry," she utters before she can stop herself. She cringes at how his eyes narrow in response. "You were busy fighting Eosmon and being heroes. It's okay that you don't have time-"

"I always make time for you," Yamato interrupts her, his clipped tone betraying his growing frustration. "Everyone does. It's what true friends do. Have you forgotten how much you mean to all of us?"

"I…I-" Her reflex is to apologize once more, but one look at him silences her.

He must have sensed her despair though, because his eyes slowly soften.

"I get that you're avoiding me, and to be honest? I don't blame you. But Taichi? He's done nothing wrong."

"It's not that!" she protests.

"Then why?! Why are you not answering his messages? He drives himself sick everyday worrying about you!"

"Because… because…" Sora closes her eyes to compose herself. Her heart is beating so hard she fears it might leap out of her chest. "Because it's more than you and me. It's me and everyone, including Taichi."

"What?" His eyes are wide in disbelief.

"I was being selfish! I know I should have fought with all of you, but I didn't want to lose Piyomon. She's all that I have left…"

Yamato deflates. He wrenches his body away from her, turning back to the flowers.

She watches his shoulders rise and fall to the rhythm of his breathing. When it slows, she dares to speak to him again.

"I'm sorry about Gabumon."

"It's not your fault," he sighs, still refusing to face her. "Taichi and I made the choice on our own."

"But…"

He sighs again, more loudly this time. "Nobody blames you, Sora. _You_ weren't the cause of the attacks. _You_ didn't make our partners disappear. You have to get over this misplaced guilt."

"_And if it's not my fault, whose is it?"_

_He swiftly breaks eye contact to settle his gaze on his shoes. The seconds tick by with no answer coming from him._

"_I know it's not yours."_

"_Does it matter whose fault it was?" he snaps at her. "Maybe it's neither of us."_

"_Really Yamato? Do you really believe that?"_

"_I think… we did everything right and yet, everything still came out wrong," he sighs before taking a slow breath and sweeping his gaze back to her, "Because it was bound to happen anyway."_

"Even if you and Piyomon were there, Gabumon and Agumon would've evolved anyway. There really was no other choice."

The scene of their last conversation from five months ago melts away, and she's back in the present, at the ikebana exhibit with Yamato and her floral arrangement.

Five months later and he's still saying the same thing.

"Also… you're not selfish for choosing Piyomon. God knows how you've put everyone but yourself first. It's nobody's business to accuse you of being selfish. I didn't think it. Taichi sure didn't either. He was here, by the way. Taichi. He came earlier this afternoon and waited. He's convinced you avoided him the whole time. Told me not to bother going, but it's your first exhibit, and I know how important this is to you-"

"It is," she interrupts his slew of words, a rare phenomenon, but Yamato was clearly nervous judging from how often he ruffles his hair throughout their conversation, "And I appreciate it."

"Oh. Okay."

Sora takes a wary step toward him and another. When his hunched back doesn't move, she takes a third. A fourth. Until she stands beside him, her shoulders inches from his. "I'm glad that you're here."

"Are you?"

She meets his curious glance, and ignores the skipping rhythm her heart has decided to adopt.

"What do you think of it? My floral arrangement?"

He blinks at her blatant attempt at evading his question, then, despite it, decides to humor her. "It's different," he answers easily. "Everything here follows a set of rules, but yours doesn't. The other displays are beautiful, but yours stands out and because of that, it's even more beautiful. It's you, and everything that I've always loved-"

Yamato abruptly cuts off while his face flushes. He shoves his hands into his pockets and turns away from her once more.

"Do me a favor and don't quote me on that, okay? I'm hardly one to give an unbiased review."

The giggle that escapes her lips breaks the tension somewhat, and she sees his shoulders relax in response.

"Excuse me?" the usher pipes up from behind them. "Takenouchi-san, I'm really sorry but the exhibit is about to close."

They both bow in apology and head for the main door. They pause in hesitation at the sidewalk as the crowds around them rush to their respective homes.

"I should get going. "

"Do you want to have dinner somewhere?"

Their words run into each other, creating a jarring sound with his voice ringing marginally louder.

"It's been crazy today, and I feel like I haven't eaten since lunch. I'm not really in the mood to cook right now so-"

She gives him a small, reassuring smile. "I haven't eaten all day. There might have been more visitors today because it's the last day of the exhibit. I've been on my feet nonstop."

Yamato looks relieved. "There's a café down the block. Don't worry about the train. I can take you home."

"You don't really have to do that, Yamato…"

"You know I'm going to insist anyway, right? You may be stubborn, but I'm ten times worse especially when I'm hungry."

Sora stifles another giggle and nods. "Okay, enough talking. Let's get some food."

The café Yamato chose is brightly lit and cheerful, somewhere he would have taken her to back when they were still dating. Wooden booths line the front windows, while larger tables take up the rest of the space.

After perusing the menu, they give the server their orders, then settle down into their seats.

"Are you sure a salad is enough? You said you barely ate today."

"You sound like Piyomon," she joked. "I don't think either of you realize that adults have to be conscious of what we eat."

Sora expects a jab from him in return, but is surprised to see that Yamato face has lost all its humor.

"Piyomon's not here with you. Is she… is she alright?"

Her heart breaks all over again at how concerned he is. He should be mourning the loss of his partner, not worrying about the impending loss of hers. She should be the one supporting him through this difficult time. Since when did she become so self-absorbed? She always made sure to take care of her friends in the past.

"The exhibit tired her out. She went home early with my mother."

"Oh." Relief floods his eyes. "That's good. Jou also says his timer has slowed down. We're not sure why his didn't go off first considering he's older than us, but Koushiro thinks it has something to do with the number of times we had our partners evolve."

"So it's just Agumon and Gabumon?"

She sees the flash of pain a split-second before he can conceal it.

"Yeah."

"That's…" For the first time, she's actually at a loss for words. Nothing in the world can reassure him at this point. Gabumon was gone. Yamato was never going to see him again. At least she was given a chance to say goodbye.

"It's horrible." Yamato mutters through gritted teeth. He sounds dangerously close of crying. Though the ice is long gone, he tries desperately to keep his composure in front of her. "Worse than dying. It feels like a part of my heart was ripped out, and there's a gaping hole that I need to fill and I don't know how. You know what I mean, right? To have your heart torn apart?"

The death of a relationship. She knows the feeling all too well. Merely months ago, she nursed a broken heart after the end of theirs. He was everything to her for as long as she could remember, then suddenly, he wasn't. While Piyomon did her best to mend her partner's wounds, she carries her Yamato-shaped hole to this day.

"I don't think there's a way to fix it, to be honest."

His gaze flicks up to her, catches hers and holds onto it. "They say time heals wounds."

"There's not enough in this lifetime. We'll have to be reincarnated several times over."

"You think so?" His eyes bore deep into her making her flush with discomfort. "I think there are other things that can speed it up."

"L-like what?"

"Friends." He answers. "I know it sounds selfish, but… I'm kind of relieved that I don't have to go through this on my own. Taichi is the only person who knows what it's like. He knows my pain, shares it, and maybe that makes it hurt less."

"It's good that you have each other," she manages to say as evenly as she can while simultaneously masking the ache of missing her other best friend, her former best friend.

Whom will she have when Piyomon's timer finally runs out? Who will share her pain? Ease it?

"You have us too. When the timer… when Piyomon… when she goes," he stammers after a short pause. His eyes are soft when they land on hers, reassuring her of the sincerity of his promise, and that he forgives her for everything, "We'll be right here."

He reaches across the table for her hand. Their fingers assume a familiar arrangement, tangling amongst themselves, as the warmth of his palm covers hers.

* * *

Hours tick by. By the time they emerge from the café, the crowds have significantly thinned out. He leads her to a shiny new motorcycle. His look of pride as soon as he sets his eyes on it is impossible to miss.

"I'm getting on it on one condition." Sora holds up a single finger in front of his smirking face.

"Name it," he challenges her.

"That you go slower than last time."

The smirk grows into a full-fledged grin that sends her reeling. She didn't think it possible for him to get even handsomer than he already was since their breakup, but he did and continues to do so.

He knows it too, making sure to use it against her to gain the upper hand.

"The last time was hardly fast. I was well under the speed limit the whole time."

"You're crazy. I was terrified!"

He laughs a comfortable chuckle that has her giggling soon after. Yamato hands her a helmet and demonstrates on his how to fasten it under her chin. She fumbles a bit so he helps her.

The restrictive cloth of her yukata strains against her knees as she sits behind him. ("You want to change into jeans before we go?" he asks her, but she shakes her head.)

"Yamato, you promised," she reminds him as she clutches fistfuls of his leather jacket.

His back rumbles with laughter. He seizes both of her wrists to wrap her arms around his waist. "I did no such thing. Now hold on."

To her utmost horror, the engine roars to life and the bike lurches forward. It takes all of Sora's willpower not to scream. The Tokyo cityscape races past them in misshapen blurs dotted with lights.

She remembers how not too long ago, they were in a similar situation, only her heart was racing for an additional reason. He had just bought his first bike and promised her a ride. He took them around Tokyo and across the Rainbow Bridge. After having a picnic dinner at their favorite lookout spot, he drove her home. By the end of their date, sheer terror had completely taken over her body. Her legs shook uncontrollably as she alighted from the godforsaken vehicle. She took not more than two steps before all but crumpling to ground if not for his fast reflexes.

After a round of good-natured teasing from her then boyfriend, he carried her bridal-style up to her empty apartment (her mother had gone to Kyoto to visit her father).

They made love for the first time that night. She almost felt thankful that the motorcycle ride scared her. Almost.

Their path this time is much shorter, more straightforward. She guides him through the maze of Tokyo's streets until she sees her apartment building looming ahead. He pulls to a stop moments later, and kicks down the stand before getting off.

He grins as he holds out a hand to help her down. When he sees her hesitate, however, concern takes over. "You okay? Think you can stand?"

"I… I think so…" she tries to catch her breath as the memories she tried so hard to lock up come flooding back. Yamato grips her waist and lifts her off the seat, setting her down gently on solid concrete. She stands, swaying, until he grabs her again. Her yukata is rumpled, perhaps permanently, and she's sure her hair looks frightening. But he, of course, looks perfect under the pale moonlight.

It's not fair.

She smoothens her hair out of self-consciousness with one hand while the other clutches at his arm for support.

"You should've changed into jeans."

Heat floods Sora's face from embarrassment. "Better idea: I should've taken a cab."

"You had fun, admit it Sora."

"I…" Sora hesitates as she lapses into silence.

_Admit it._

She shifts her gaze from his infuriating smirk to quite possibly the most benign part of his body – his left ear. It's inches from the most dangerous part, but it's the only one that isn't attached to any memory from their many years together.

Then a sobering thought hits her. Today is the last day of the ikebana exhibit, one of the last days of March. The next term is starting soon. To make amends and check on her and Piyomon weren't the sole reasons for his sudden appearance.

He's saying goodbye.

"Are you really leaving?"

Yamato does a double take and the smirk abruptly disappears. "What?"

"Mimi mentioned getting into the aeronautic engineering program. Are you really leaving for Ishikawa?"

"Funny how Mimi seems to know what's going on with everyone despite being the only person outside Japan…" he mutters under his breath. "I sent my application to KIT last semester and they accepted. Space defense might be a long shot, but I'm going to try anyway."

"Oh." Cold water washes over her, leaving her in shock. Her gaze falls on her fingers fiddling with the seam of his jacket. "That's amazing. Space defense sounds perfect for you. Your head was always up in the clouds."

His mouth angles to the right in a tiny smile. "The sky," he corrects her with his bright, blue, moonlit eyes. "My head was up in the sky. It's my favorite place to be."

Sora's mouth goes dry from his words. She lets go of his jacket and takes a quick step back.

"Ishikawa is so far. How will Taichi survive without you?"

"Taichi's going to be fine. He got into a good program for international studies at Waseda. He's hoping that with all the traveling, he might find a digital gate opening somewhere. It sounds like harebrained idea if you asked me, but finding gates in space is probably just as stupid-"

"It's not," she splutters, eyes filling with tears. "You've both got everything figured out. I'm so happy…" she trails off as sobs overtake her. She brings her cold hands to her face to wipe away the tears, but more continue to fall.

"You say you're happy," he mumbles, "And yet you're crying…"

She swears it's laughter she wills herself to produce, but the sound that comes out of her throat is more like a strangled cry followed by hiccups. Yamato's bewildered face is blurry but visible from behind a curtain of tears.

"Sora…" He draws himself nearer until he's standing in front of her, holding both of her arms in place in case she tries to escape. "What's going on in that head of yours? Talk to me, please."

"I've lost all sense of myself," she blubbers, rubbing more of the tears from her stinging eyes, "I'm not sure how or when it happened. I've been pinning my identity on what others expect of me – succeeding my mother as iemoto of our school, battling evil digimon as a Chosen Child. When we broke up…" She flinches away from him as the words tumble out, but Yamato nods calmly, encouraging her to continue.

"After th-that, I thought that, maybe, if I made other friends, friends who weren't Chosen Children, I would find out who I really was. That I was more than just Sora of the crest of love and only daughter of Takenouchi Toshiko. That maybe, there was something more for me. Piyomon and I talked about it a lot, and we made a promise to figure it out together, but it looks like I'm going to have to do this alone-"

Sora trails off into sobs just as his arms wrap around her shaking form. He pulls her in without hesitation, close, until she is flush against him and can feel each breath. With his thumb and index finger against her chin, he gently tilts her face until their eyes meet.

"You do know who you are. You just need us to remind you. You are Sora, one of the most amazing people I know," he states with absolute certainty, "You are caring, sweet, kind, selfless to a fault. You always put your family and friends before yourself, and on the rare occasion that you do think of yourself, you worry about being selfish. But you're not. You are Sora. And you are love."

He takes a wayward strand of hair and tucks it behind her ear. He doesn't even hide how his fingers linger on her cheek as he does this.

"Nothing will change that. Not Eosmon, not the timer, not becoming iemoto, not anything."

He swipes his thumb underneath her eyes to brush the last of her tears aside.

And presses his lips to her forehead.

"Do me a favor?" he asks when he pulls away.

Sora nods, already missing the warmth of his hands.

"Give Taichi a call, okay? He's really worried about you."

She gives him a watery smile, one that he returns, and promises that, yes, she will call him as soon as she's inside her apartment.

He's gone before she realizes it, and it's only then that she realizes that she's still shaking. A series of beeps come from her phone in her pocket. It's her mother asking her where she is. She shoots a quick reply to reassure the older Takenouchi that she is home.

'Are you okay? The usher said you left with a boy with blond hair. Was it Yamato?' her mother asks in her reply.

'Don't worry, Okaasan. I'm fine. I will tell you about it tomorrow. Good night :)'

She sends her text, and opens a new message for someone else.

'Hey. You busy?'

Ten seconds later (she knows because she counted every single one), his two-letter reply lifts the last of the invisible weight off her heart.

'I'm sorry for everything.'

Seven seconds. 'Me too.'

Her finger lingers on her phone's call button as she reads into his scarce reply. Then another message comes in.

'God Sora, I miss you.'

So she pushes it.

* * *

**A/N:** 2! 4! 6! 8! Who do we appreciate? SO-RA-TO! (and Taichi too!) Doesn't rhyme but I don't care. Please leave a review, yeah?


End file.
